


The Way You Say My Name

by CosmicNeutral



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Drabble, I don't ship this why, In this cursed fic?, M/M, More likely than you think!, early morning, soft?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25039639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicNeutral/pseuds/CosmicNeutral
Summary: I'm not what you planned/ but I'm a safe place to landDrabble
Relationships: Jonah Magnus/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	The Way You Say My Name

It's the soft light streaming through the blinds and curtains, soft green and a large window that leads to the balcony because Jonah is nothing if not with taste, but it's the soft light. The morning light, with the smell of petrichor and hydrangeas filtering in. Laying there is Jon, spread out and illuminated by the light, his hair fanning out beneath him and his eyes fluttering in his rest. 

Jonah thinks his heart is breaking, but in only the best of ways. It's an ache that doesn't hurt, a feeling of drowning but then gasping in air and gasping again because you can. It's a feeling of being untethered in a storm as the winds toss you to and fro and the rain pours down, cleansing you of your sins and your hurt and leaving you raw and human. It's the feeling of seeing and being seen, of knowing and being known. 

Jonah sits up slowly, unwrapping Jon's arm from his waist, but stays in bed. He has nowhere to be today. One hand reaches for Jon's hair, pulling a strand from Jon's mouth because that is disgusting, Jon, really? And if his hand is there, might as well comb it. A small strand twirls around his ring finger, dark and drastic. A white strand catches. Another white strand, then dark- the morning light casting soft hues of orange onto Jon's back and hair and the pillow. He breathes in, then back out.

"How do I love thee?" Jonah finds himself murmur. "Let me count the ways," and his murmur softens. Jon breathes again, and his eyes begin to flutter open.

"Good morning, my love," he whispers up at Jonah, and oh. Oh that hits different. Jon's eyes flutter shut again, and he misses the way Jonah stops and the way his hands stutter to a stop, before slowly running down to brace himself. Jonah leans down and presses a light kiss to Jon's temple, humming back.

"I love thee to the depth and breadth and height," he continues, little more than a breathe, "My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight."

Jon laughs, and rolls over onto his side, peering up at Jonah. "Is that so?" He drops down on top of Jon, no doubt crushing him from the wheezing laughter that comes before. Jon pushes Jonah off, and Jonah rolls away with an easy grace, taking the blanket with him. "Oh, you _ass,"_ Jon retorts, grabbing the blanket from Jonah and yanking. It devolves from there, cold feet shoved onto warm legs and hair lightly pulled, kisses traded as distraction and pillows shoved in faces. 

They end up with the blanket tossed off to floor, much to Jonah's displeasure, and Jon's head on Jonah's lap. Jonah's hands running through Jon's hair become all that keeps him awake, his voice whispering poems barely recalled.

"Promise," Jon asks, his eyes opening slowly and his face turned up towards Jonah.

"I married you, didn't I?" Jonah asks, and indeed, he did.

"You never know." Jonah hums, and pulls Jon up- up- up. He presses his forehead into Jon's and opens his eyes and Jon sees himself the way Jonah does-

Jon is bathed in a soft light, the window behind him, illuminating his soft edges. Jonah's heart swells and swells and it's not an ache, Jonah knows this, it's love. Jonah hasn't known love in so very long, but here with Jon he might have just discovered it. A fluttering in his chest, as all the aches are gone. A relief of fear. A balm on pain. A safe place to land.


End file.
